Study Of My MalContented Muse
by McFadden
Summary: Draco Hermoine:HIATUS In her 7th year, Hermoine died...For 5 years she's been living a muggle life with the help of a new alias. What happens when familiar faces from her past begin to show up...
1. Meet Merrick

Disclaimer..... Read thouroughly!! I do not want to post this with every chapter...  
  
I am not, nor will I ever be J. K. Rowling. I'm just taking Draco out for his exercise. Sorry for the hell-ish delay in updates, but I recently reacquired my laptop. So all is good and well in the world of writing. Thanks to my lovely reviewers...all 2 of them. Maybe I'll get more soon, who knows. Love y'all!

Study of My Mal-Contented Muse

God, Why am I here again? It happens every time. It never fails, though sometimes I hope it would forget...That I would forget. But, that's the bliss of a Freudian Lapse...no control. A long time ago, I realized that control was a prettily painted picture. A fantasy. One that I would never consciously live out.   
  
I was having my current epiphany while hunched over on a barstool in a local muggle coffee shop. I've been here so many times that I neither have to look to my right nor left to know that the young Irish fellow at the end of the bar will soon come over and tell me the world is shite and I am his inspiration for better living, then he'll leave. Here he comes now. As surely as the time doth pass by...  
  
_Do I really look that bad today? _  
  
But yet I say nothing. I'm not so social lately, more just in a state of physical disrepair. At least I know people won't bother me, or better yet...notice me. I study my hands presently warming themselves on my mug filled with coffee. Black as night. Perhaps if I hadn't worn my mittens with the fingers cut off I wouldn't be having this problem. They were dark green and moth-eaten. I pay too much attention to detail, I realize this. But I'm a writer, it's what we do. A blast of winter air caused me to shiver and reminded me that I was still in the café, but I would be late for work. No matter, I owned the bookstore anyway. Nevertheless I pulled myself up, and forced my body into the chilly weather of outside Surry.  
  
I'm no longer associated with my previous life. I had to get away from it all and just be normal again. I do, however, manage to catch a glimpse of "one" every now and then in passing. It's only when I think of what used to be...only then am I drawn to that place. To dwell I suppose, or to lose myself again in the muggles in order to regain sanity. I am forever grateful for all I learned and experienced. I have no reason for why I left really...I just simply wanted to forget. Which is proving increasingly impossible. The people I once knew and loved think that I'm dead, except for Dumbledore of course. He always knew. The beauty was that he would never tell. On every literal blue moon I'd see a Barn Owl, and receive a letter. He'd write and keep me informed of the events of my friends, the school I can't bring myself to say the name of anymore, and any major news of the year. That was the only thing that I granted myself from their world. It would satisfy my curiosity just enough. Other than that, I would remain clueless.  
  
This particular moment I was completely submerged in "Masque of The Red Death," trying to imagine every colorful room and the shadowy gentleman lurking in them in coordination to Poe's meticulous descriptions. I didn't hear the bell on the door warning me that someone had enter my store. Only when someone slightly cleared their throat did I look up from my page. My ears suddenly filled with white noise, and my heart stopped.  
  
_No!! Fuck...the scar would forever betray him. God...Harry.  
_  
I noticed his lips were moving but I couldn't hear him so I snapped out of my thoughts.  
  
"What?"  
  
His patient eyes looked into mine with a smile. No one ever looked me in the eyes anymore.  
  
"I said, I was wondering if you had anything by Aldous Huxley?"  
  
"Yes I do. Is there any particular work you're interested in, or is it just the author in general?"  
  
"In general..."  
"Follow me."  
  
I booked -marked my page and led him into the back of the store then return to my precious story. Apparently and by the grace of God, he didn't recognize me. Not that I was expecting him to. I look nothing like my old self. I was 6'0 now. My hair was in its now natural state of complete shambles, piled on top of my head. I also dressed like a slightly better off homeless person. Minus the bad smell...   
  
I too was of a sound mind to change my name to avoid any contact or lingering suspicions after I 'died.' But until now I had managed to steer clear of anyone I knew so closely. This was just completely stressful. Harry came back a few minutes later and again broke me from my reverie. I briefly noted the book he had placed on the counter, 'Brave New World.'   
  
"Good choice.."  
  
I said this more to myself than to him, but he heard me and smiled.  
  
"You've read it?"  
  
"I would never put a book on these shelves that I haven't read for myself."  
  
He took that time to fully take in the extent of my store and it's contents. I nearly laughed at the look of his face, in all of its wide-eyed perspective. I rang up the sale and handed him the book.  
  
"Thank you..."  
  
"Merrick, My name is Merrick."  
  
He slightly bowed his head and said absently,  
  
"Beautiful name."  
  
_Go Harry, just go...please.  
  
_He glanced up before turning and walking out the door, and hopefully back out of my life.  
  
That night, I climbed into my attic for the first time since I put my belongings up there...5 years ago. My old robes, my scarf, my wand was still where I'd put them. There and only there was my past known. All the enchanted pictures of my friends. Of Harry and Ron...I kept everything. Sitting on the floor, I picked up a picture of Seamus and smiled sadly. He looked out of the picture at me and winked, right before getting his tongue stuck to the frozen poll of one of the three Quittich hoops. I remember how Ron dared him to do that. I tried to warn Seamus, but he insisted that nothing would happen. Hagrid had to come and pry him off. I missed Hagrid. Amongst the other stray photographs was a picture of me during my last year at the school there. It was my Head Girl picture. Standing next to me just as still and cold, was Draco, the Head Boy. A bitter taste came to my mouth. That was probably the only picture in existence where both he and I stood together. He was probably ecstatic when the news of my death came around. Then I thought of Ron and Harry. I could only imagine what they went through. All of a sudden, tears fell out of my eyes. And I cried myself to sleep right there on the attic floor.


	2. Pleasure Delayer

After two quiet and uneventful weeks I finally was able to stop looking up immediately when someone walked through the door. I was scared that Harry would return. I don't think my anonymity would have remained. I would have slipped up or something. I'm almost sure of it. I was leafing through my notebook and instead of working on my fourth novel like I was supposed to be, I was sketching things in the margins. I looked at my reflection on the polished wood counter. I still looked slightly homeless, but the rest of me looked back to normal. At least the bags under my eyes were gone. A few of my regulars were traipsing around through the shelves. A customer came up to the front wearing a black velvet cape. I began to get nervous again. No one but 'them' wore capes like that. I watched the person from the edge of my notebook. Whoever it was had drawn up their hood to obstruct unwanted stares. I heard the stranger sigh in frustration, then hastily tore back his hood. Let's just say that Harry would have been a welcomed sight now. The man had silvery blonde hair.  
  
No more...Please, I can't take this. Of everyone it could be, why did it have to be him?  
  
As if cue, he turned to look in my direction. My gaze returned to my notebook, but as luck would have it, my pen dropped to the ground. It wouldn't have been that big of a deal had the chair that I was sitting on not slipped out from under me. I really should quit leaning back in it. The rustle of fabric and a pale hand greeted me when I opened my eyes. He pulled me up and I brushed myself off.  
  
"Thank you..."  
  
The bastard had actual concern in his stormy eyes. He would've cut off his hand had he known that he helped me, the old me.   
  
"Are you alright?"  
  
There was no mistaking it now, it was definitely Draco Malfoy. His voice was as soft and silky as it always was. Just like satin. What a bloody oaf. I had to calm down though. I had to be nice. It's a bit strange having a grudge toward someone who thinks they're meeting you for the first time.  
  
"Why...Oh that? That happens to me all the time. I'm just a bit clumsy."  
  
He smiled. Smiled! Apologetically. Then he mocked a hurt look.  
  
"And here I am thinking that I knocked you off that chair with my silent charm and roguish good looks."  
  
I laughed, half because it was completely absurd and funny, the other half was because the Boy Prince of Slytherin was flirting with me and he had no fucking clue.  
  
"Sorry to disappoint you Sir."  
  
"You are the first to break my heart you know?"  
  
Mentally my skin was crawling. I just wanted him to leave. While it was true that he was beautiful, he was still a self-conceited prat.  
  
"I'm sure I am...Now, may I help you?"  
  
He straightened his posture to full height and switched to business mode. He procured a slip of paper from his cloak and gave it to me.  
  
"Actually I was wondering if you had any works by this author?"  
  
I looked down at the eloquently quilled ink. M. McFadden was written on it. My pen name. Of course I sold my own books, but no one knew I was the writer. No one that stopped in here knew my last name, people rarely asked for my first. I surely didn't put a picture of myself in my books. I was no Gilderoy Lockheart!

"Yes, actually I do"

I walked to the specialty shelves behind the counter. Why is Malfoy interested in my writing? I wrote as a muggle author, but frequently spoke of magic in my books. Maybe that's what sparked his interest. Whatever it was, I was sure to be worrying over nothing. Maybe I should just ask? He's in a good mood, he'll just assume I'm curious or trying to flirt. Clutching the eight books I had written, I lugged them on the counter dropping two of the thick novels in the process. The noise made an older woman jump and I scolded myself.  
  
"Bloody Hell Merrick..."  
  
Draco laughed and I smiled sheepishly.  
  
"Clumsy. See what I mean?"  
  
He simply nodded and smirked slightly, amused.   
  
"Are you a fan? Of the author I mean?"  
  
"Yes, I have all of his works. I was just here to pick up the newest one."  
  
This was to my surprise, even though he thought the writer was a man. Then again why wouldn't he? Of course he thinks it's a man. No woman could prove to interest him like that. I didn't mind though. He paid for the book. Wait...Did he just say something to me?  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"You have a secret admirer."  
  
I looked completely confused. He pointed toward the window where a sable and white owl, my owl, was pecking on the glass. MY OWL?!! Shit! I walked over to the window pretending to shoo Mistophelles away, discreetly hiding the letter he held up my sweater sleeve. I closed the window and brushed off the snow from my numbing hands.  
  
"He's been hanging around my store lately being a menace to my customers. For all I know he could be following you. You two have the same tendencies."  
  
Draco rocked on his heels and smiled.   
  
"Are you saying I'm a menace to your customers?"  
  
I placed my hands on the counter top.  
  
"I'm saying you're being a menace to me."  
  
He leaned his elbows on the counter closing the space between us a little. Just enough to shorten my breath. He held one of my hands, running a slender finger over the back of then and continuing to lightly stroke my palm. I faintly sensed that my hands were warming up. Which, much to my dismay, I immensely enjoyed.  
  
"Am I?"  
I nodded, not able to do much else. He looked down at our hands and shook his head.  
  
"I'm sorry...Where I come from an owl usually means a message is coming."  
  
_Play dumb...play dumb...play dumb!!!!  
  
_"Oh?"  
  
_Perfect....  
  
_He absentmindedly stroked his thumb across my knuckles. He had such warm, soft hands.  
  
"Yes...My name is Draco, Draco Malfoy. His lips brushed my wrist tenderly. With that he took his book and replaced the hood back on his head and walked out.


	3. Stalker

I don't think my mind fully grasped what happened till about an hour later when my hand still tingled from he had held and kissed it._ I wonder if that means it's going to fall off._ I see Draco is still arrogant as hell, thinking he can charm and flirt is way into getting attention from the fairer sex. After looking at the clock I realized it was only 1:30. Damn! Seven couldn't come fast enough for me. All I wanted to do was, go home, take a nice hot bath, and get into my pj's. Today has been just a little too stressful and I definitely need to relax and clear my head. In the meantime have to prepare for my 5:30 rush. Now I know what you're thinking...a bookstore has a rush time? Yes. A lot of my regular patrons like to have coffee here after a hard day of work. Besides, with it being mid-October, I get a steady stream of students buying required reading for classes. Somehow I managed to keep preoccupied until then. I noticed a small child looking bashfully at me from barely over the counter.

"What can I help you with sweetie?"

"Excuse me Miss, but that man said to give this to you."

He handed me what appeared to be a paper swan.

"Hmm..."

I looked up to see who the boy was referring to, when I saw Draco. He bowed his head in a regal manner and gave me a small smile. I turned back to the small child to find him watching me intently. I leaned down over the counter and spoke.

"Wonder why he gave this to me..."

The boy smiled and giggled.

"I think he thinks you're pretty."

I couldn't help but laugh lightly and looked down at the swan in my hands.

"What do you suppose I do with it?"

"I think you should keep it."

My head snapped up when I realized the young boy wasn't there, instead it was Draco. He was chuckling at me, apparently highly amused at my reaction.

"You again..."

He held up both his hands in a sign of surrender.

"Guilty as charged."

My eyes slanted as I looked at him.

"You're strange..."

He laughed openly at this comment. If anything, I must admit, his disposition seemed to have changed quite a bit since I last saw him. Although I could still sense the trained, aristocratic air about him. It was actually kind of nice to see him laugh in a non derisive manner. Too bad he never acted like this years ago. We might've gotten along.

"Actually, I stopped by to sort of apologize for my forwardness earlier. I'm usually not like that."

I bet not... Liar!

"Please accept this as a peace offering."

He gestured to the origami swan that I was playing with in my hands.

"Thank you. Maybe I should keep it on the counter to ward off menacing visitors."

He smiled.

"Yes..."

Slipping on some black gloves, he proceeded to the door before stopping once more to turn around. His eyes were pale blue with amusement.

"However...I don't think it'll work as well as you may hope."

And just like that, he slipped out into the cold London fog. I took a very deep breath. That man could unnerve me like no one else. Of course now I noticed my hand started to feel warm and tingly again.

Seven came around eventually and I began to close. The last of my customers followed me out as I locked the door. I bid them all a good night and began my trek home. I live only about a twenty minute walk away, so I usually opt for that. As I walked the cold wind made my cheeks rosy and whipped my hair out of its bun, making it a tangled mess. I stopped momentarily to dig my mittens out of my coat pocket when a beautiful raven-black owl swooped down in front of me. He didn't look familiar, but he seems to be harmless.

"Getting an early start tonight, are we?"

He ruffled his feathers and poked his chest out proudly.

"My you're such a handsome fellow..."

With that, he flew away so I continued my walk thinking nothing more of the mysterious owl. I arrived home and after tripping over my steps and dropping my keys twice, but I finally made it through the door. Peeling layers upon layers of clothes off my body, I felt much better. I heard something hit the floor. It was a scroll of parchment that must've fallen from the sleeve of my sweater. Poor Mistophelles tried earnestly to deliver it to me today but I couldn't have Malfoy there to see me receive a letter. He would defiantly be too superstitious, especially when I was supposed to be a muggle. I guess luckily for me he hasn't noticed anything can't quite figure out why I've been the center of his attention today. Turning back to the scroll, I could see that it was a short note unmistakably from Dumbledore. Nothing could beat the penmanship of a quill.

Dear Ms. McFadden,

I so dearly hope that this letter finds you well and in good spirits. Not a day goes by that you aren't greatly missed. The remaining 2/3rds of you refuse to let your spirit nor your memory die. They speak so fondly of you. And so often too, it makes me wonder if they're capable of concentrating on much else. If you ever desire to return and make your presence known to our world again, remember my door will forever be open to you. Please respond and inform me on how you've been before I begin to worry.

Best Regards,

A. Dumbledore

Headmaster

Sighing to myself I folded the parchment and took it to my attic where I stored everything magical. There, I took my own bit of parchment and quill to begin writing a response. I defiantly intend on including my close encounters with both Harry and Malfoy. Although part of me believes Dumbledore already know that this is coming. He doesn't miss a thing

Dear Headmaster,

I am well, although feeling very awkward. Two or so weeks ago, I saw Harry. Oh I can't tell you how much it crushed me to see him. I almost broke into tears, Headmaster. He was so much like I remembered him to be, so vibrant. And yet, this time, he carried with him a great pain and sadness. That was almost too much for me to bare witness to. Especially knowing that I was a contributor to it.

On a more self-disciplined and disturbing note, I saw young Mr. Malfoy today. Having not been a very big fan of his in my younger years, imagine my surprise when he was normal and kind. I'm afraid he has taken a liking to me as well, because he returned to see me this evening. I'm highly unnerved and I'm afraid I don't know what I'm going to do about this. I'm sure it's just a one-day thing and that it'll pass soon. I hope you are doing well and that the start of first term hasn't dimmed that twinkle in your eye that I miss so much. I owe you so much for keeping this secret for so long. I hope Harry and Ron know just how much I love them. I will speak with you soon.

With Highest Sincerity,

M. McFadden

"Your Ghostly Friend"

I whistled for Mistophelles and he came flying in the room, landing near my inkpot.

"You know where to go, try and make sure no one sees you alright?"

He hooted softly and affectionately rubbed my cheek with his head. I tied the parchment neatly to his leg and sent him on his way through the loft window. Now, onto that bath to detoxify my hand.

As I lay there in the tub, a glass of red wine in one hand, a book in the other, I find my mind drifting to Malfoy. It's a very strange situation to be laying completely nude in the tub and thinking about my worst enemy. But alas that's what I am doing. I have to admit, the Malfoy men were like a fine wine themselves. They just get better with age. While Lucius too was quite strikingly handsome, his attitude didn't help much, nor did his part time occupation. Draco now kept his hair long enough where it would blow into his eyes. It still looked like silk. I imagine it felt just as soft. Just as his touch was soft, and his skin, and his lips...Okay getting a little too carried away here. I know I haven't had a boyfriend in the last year or so but that's no excuse to sit here and fawn over Malfoy.

"You've finally lost it."

All this wine must be going to my head. I downed what was left in my glass and sank into the warm and fragrant bubbles. I contemplated just drowning, but thought better of it. I'm glad that I closed the shop for the next three days, maybe I'll have a full recovery by Monday.

knock knock

Maybe not...

I grudgingly got out of the bath, the cold air stealing away the cozy feeling from my body. I know answering the door in a bathrobe is against some code of ethics but right now I was both relaxed but slightly apprehensive about whom maybe coming over at this time. Both of those emotions combined automatically meant that I didn't care what or who saw me in a robe. Trudging halfheartedly to the front door, the wood floor cold beneath my feet, I answered it. A silvery blond head and cautious eyes met mine.

"Malfoy! What are you doing here?"

Shit...

He completely blanched and stared wide-eyed for a second or two before recovering slightly.

"What did you say?"

His voice was shaking so I had to gain my advantage back before I blew my whole quiet existence.

"You said your name was Draco Malfoy, you just scared me that's all. Are you okay? You look a bit peaked."

I touched his smooth forehead and moved my hand gently across his cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned into my touch, almost like he'd never been touched in a caring way. With Lucius as a father, I knew why. I moved next to him and guided him inside.

" Here...sit down."

I moved a few strands of hair out of his eyes and stared at him. Merlin knows I didn't think he'd react like this to my slip up. I felt really sorry for him. He looked ready to collapse right there. I rubbed his back gently.

"Do you feel any better?"

He nodded and ran his hands over his face.

"I'm sorry, you just reminded me of someone I went to school with. She always called me by my last name. We didn't exactly get along with each other. She was killed, five years ago, and only after her death did I realize just how wrong I was for making her life a living hell...It's a long story. Anyway, I found this outside and thought you might want it back."

He handed me my I.D. It must've fell out of my pocket either when I was searching for my gloves or when my keys fell. Needless to say this isn't the first time that this has happened. It's strange that he would be the one to find it. Then again when using magic, you can pretty much do anything. That however was the least of my worries. Now not only had Draco seen my full name, no doubt smart enough to figure out I'm his famous writer. But, he's also in my home which can confirm anyone suspicions that I am indeed a writer. I just have to play it by ear.

"Thank you. Would you like some tea? It might help your nerves a bit."

He simply nodded and gestured to my long forgotten wine glass.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything..."

I looked down at the glass, then remembered my current state. How awful I must look to him right now!

"I promise you aren't disturbing me, I just got out of a bath. Do you want to stay for a while?"

His eyes were so beautiful at that moment. I guess I never really took the time to notice. This isn't the same Draco I knew years ago, something definitely changed in him after all this time.

"Why not, I'll take you up on your offer."

He followed me into the kitchen, all the while with observant eyes. I put the kettle on. He leaned against the island bar next to me and closed his eyes for a moment. His hair shifting into them.

"I'm going to go put on something more descent, so I don't frighten you."

"Mmm..."

He open an eye and smirked at me. Without thinking, I ran my fingers through his hair. He caught my wrist when I turned to leave. He pulled me to him so that my back was resting against him. His hands went to the pen that was keeping my hair up, causing it to tumble down. He brushed it away from my neck, breathing in deeply.

"I know all about you Merrick."

He paused to breath deeply again, nuzzling my neck.

"McFadden..."


End file.
